


keep it pg-13

by kennysspace



Series: almost paradise - part two [11]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22609009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kennysspace/pseuds/kennysspace
Summary: almost paradise: part two - chapter eleven of fifteeneveryone's exhausted after their respective encounters with the supernatural. but nancy has something she wants to say to you.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Henderson!Reader, Steve Harrington/Reader, Steve Harrington/You
Series: almost paradise - part two [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571503
Kudos: 28





	keep it pg-13

this is being updated to my tumblr as well. you can find it [here](https://yelennabelova.tumblr.com)

* * *

Despite the bickering over who could sit where, the kids let you have the passenger’s seat; it gives you enough room to stretch your aching legs. Now that it seems that the chaos is over, every weight on your body is taking its toll. You want nothing more than to fall asleep right here. 

Steve watches you silently as he drives, eyes moving to your face every couple of moments. You’re growing quieter and your eyelids droop more with every second - you just need some rest until you arrive at the Byers’.

“Hey hey hey, no, don’t close your eyes,” Steve’s concerned voice cuts through the chatter from the kids. You barely have the strength to try and obey. 

“I’m just - I just need a little rest,” You mumble, the words tripping on the way out of your mouth. The murmurs in the back cease as one by one, the kids begin to notice your drowsiness. 

“Steve,” Dustin warns as he sits up straight, his gaze trained on you, “She can’t fall asleep. You can’t let concussed people fall asleep.” 

Steve nods a little frantically, “Come on, stay awake okay? We’re almost there.” 

You can hear the insistence in Steve’s voice, and feel the small pushes on your shoulders from Lucas sat behind you but it’s too hard. Something incoherent tumbles it’s way out of your mouth and it’s as though your eyes are drenched in thick honey, you’re barely able to open them.

Steve’s hardly watching the road now, accelerating as he reaches out a hand to push fallen hair from your face. 

“Yeah, okay, that’s good - I’m gonna get you some help but you gotta stay awake for me, alright?” 

The car grinds as Steve takes a left, beginning down the gravel driveway as your vision shifts to the dashboard, then to your injured hand. It looks worse than it did earlier. 

The car jolts to a stop outside the Byers’ home and you shift forward, suddenly feeling more present as the situation unfolds. Steve pops open his door, not even bothering to take the keys from the ignition, and he rushes around to your side of the vehicle; Lucas already has the door open when he arrives.

The splintering headache returns when the cold night’s air surrounds you, and you can hear the kids as they pile out behind you. You lift your hand to help but it moves sluggishly, as if not to your will. The groan that passes your lips can’t be helped when Steve grabs you by the bicep, hoisting you upright.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” He mutters before you stagger back into his chest. Even with the pounding in your head, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the proximity.

Taking a step away, you feel someone else steady you from behind and glimpsing over your shoulder, you see it’s Dustin. The same concern on Steve’s face is mirrored in his. 

“We gotta get her into the house,” Steve says to your brother and he nods in agreement. Steve turns his attention to the others who are standing to the side, each praying that you’re okay.

“Meet us inside - and find their first aid kit.” The kids nod and scramble towards the house, with only Dustin staying by your side. 

Steve’s hand circles your waist and he huffs to himself, trying to move you as delicately as possible. But the night air is waking you back up and while everything hurts, it can’t be much compared to the state Steve’s in. 

“Steve,” You croak as the three of you begin to walk, “I’m fine.”

Steve scoffs, “You’re hardly classified as fine.” 

“Okay. I’m not in perfect condition.” 

You laugh lightly and immediately regret the action, one hand coming to cover your ribs - where you’d made impact with the china cabinet. Wiping the grimace from your features, your soft gaze meets his as he glances your way, “But neither are you, Steve.” 

Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, Steve shakes his head at your comment. His voice is just above a whisper as he responds, “Don’t worry about me, Henderson. Let’s get you inside, okay?”

You shuffle through the entrance to the Byers’ home, aided by Steve, with the door held open by Mike. He watches you move by with concerned eyes.

“Think she’s gonna be okay?” He questions, tagging behind you two as you navigate through the space; Mike’s sneakers squeak against the floor - the soles made contact with some of the stray blood that stains the hardwood.

“I’ll be fine, Mike,” You wave off his anxieties before Steve scoffs a laugh, “Yeah, if she even lets me patch her up. Speaking of, which way’s the bathroom?”

Dustin reappears by Steve’s shoulder in an instant. 

“Down the hall, first door on the left,” He instructs, joining Mike in following the pair of you through the house. Lucas’ voice rings across the house, bouncing off the walls, “Got it!” 

Both you and Steve cringe at the loud noise, eyes closing for a moment in an effort to lessen the pain that accompanies. 

You’re more than thankful to be able to lean against the counter once reaching the bathroom. Shortly after, a thundering of running footsteps echo through the house; Max pushes through the crowd at the bathroom door, a first aid kit in hand.

She holds it out with a grin and somewhere in the back of the group, you hear Lucas whine, “But I was the one who found it!”

You reach out to take it at the same time as Steve but he’s just a touch quicker, snatching it from the girl and tucking it under his arm. 

“Steve, c'mon, you need this more than I do right now,” You insist sternly as you try to grab it from him. But he’s backing up slightly, aggressively shaking his head in protest.

"You can’t even use both hands!” He shoots back and at the reminder, your hand twinges in pain. It had grown almost numb now, swollen from the fractures in your bones. You don’t want to look at it. 

Before you can open your lips to reply, Dustin speaks up from the doorway.

“For fuck’s sake, just let him help you!”

It takes the silence afterwards to realize that all of the kids gathered in the door frame. Mike’s head taller than anyone else’s and Lucas, his chin on Max’s shoulder; all four pairs of eyes are watching the bickering between you and Steve. 

“Alright, everyone out,” Steve steps forward, one hand waving the kids back and the other pulling the door shut; your brows raise in surprise but the headache in your skull silently thanks him.

Objections rise quickly as they all shuffle backwards but Steve doesn’t give in, “The doctor is in and he needs peace and quiet to work." 

"We can be quiet!” Lucas speaks from the back of the group, hands moving vigorously through the air. 

“Yeah, super silent!” Mike chimes in and they all nod in agreement. 

Steve leans his weight on the frame, sighing at the looks of frustration plastered over their faces. He can tell they all really care about you - even Max.

“Look, I’ll fix her up in no time but I need to focus to do that - so for her sake, please.” 

Dustin huffs, taking another worried glance at you, propped up against the counter for stability. God, what’s your mother going to say?

“Alright, fine. Come on you guys,” He pulls the door until it’s nearly shut but pauses, eyes narrowed at up at Steve in a threatening glare, “You better keep it PG-13 in here, Harrington. We all know your reputation with the ladies.” 

The door closes promptly, leaving Steve stunned and you with a blush. Your brother’s so dead.

“What a little shit,” Steve chuckles, turning to face you; you don’t mention the color that’s spreading over his cheeks. Grabbing the first aid kit, Steve unzips it and lays it on the countertop. 

“Okay, hop up,” He gestures to the counter with a flick of his head and despite your injuries, you wiggle back onto the surface. 

He’s thankful when you don’t seem to fight him on the request to inspect your fingers, simply extending your purple tinted hand. Steve takes it into his own, cradling it gently as he turns it over to assess the damage. His eyes meet yours when you hiss lightly, brows knitting together. 

“Sorry,” He mentions abruptly as he casts his attention back down, “For that and-”

Steve sighs, fingers growing tenser around your own, “For not being able to stop this. I should’ve done-” 

“Steve,” You interrupt him. He takes a moment to meet your focus; he’s surprised to see you’re smiling. “Shut up.” 

Steve grins back before rolling his eyes, but he knows that it’s your way of telling him there is nothing to be forgiven. There’s no need to apologize - even if he feels he should.

“I’m not sure if there’s much I can do except ice it,” His expression turns grim, wishing there was more he could do to help you. Being the smart kid she is, Max had dropped an ice pack onto the counter earlier - Steve gently drapes it across your violet knuckles. 

You inhale in response and Steve halts his movements, eyes moving up to check you were okay enough to continue. 

“S'okay, it’s just cold,” You assure him. He smiles again, picking up the gauze from the kit and blows a strand of hair back from his face. 

As he begins to delicately wind the gauze around the ice, Dustin’s comment rings through his mind and Steve can’t figure out why it bothers him so much.

He knows that he had a reputation, a few regretful nights spent with girls who liked to gossip. It hadn’t bothered him then; it was something he used to be proud of, way back when. It’s hard to believe that was barely a year ago. 

But as Steve considers it, he feels he wouldn’t want Dustin to remember him that way. Or you either. 

Pulling the bandage tighter, he ponders why it itches at his brain as much as it does. You’re different to Steve. Or rather you made Steve different. He wasn’t a ladies’ man to you, or at least he hoped he wasn’t. You never cared about what he was like before you were friends; it still haunts him, with every jeer and mock sent his way by Tommy or Carol.

You make all their bullshit a little easier. Steve hopes he does the same for you - especially after finding out about your past with Nancy. 

You both understand how difficult heartbreak can be.

“Hope you’re not losing any brain cells thinking too hard there, Harrington.” 

Steve looks up, his hands still holding yours and you’re holding back a smirk, curious as to what’s on his mind. He doesn’t zone out much, but when he does, you know something’s up.

“Ha ha, I am not thank you very much,” He replies, deftly finishing the wrap on your hand, “That should be fine until we can find you a real doctor.”

The next thing you know, Steve’s wetting a rag under the tap, running the water between his fingers to make sure it’s not too cold. You sit perfectly still once he leans a bit closer, beginning to wipe the blood that had dried under your nose. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

The question’s sincere, and the way you ask makes him nervous. That tone - that’s saved for the quieter moments, the vulnerable ones. 

Your gaze is fixed on his face as he focuses. You’re close enough to count his lashes, enough to make you anxious, but the question has been burning in your mind.

Pausing his ministrations, Steve lets the washcloth hover over your skin, “I just- you don’t think of me like that, do you?" 

Your brows draw together before answering, “Like what?”

“A ladies’ man,” He references Dustin’s comment earlier; his slight frown gives away how much it affected him. Steve’s eyes scour the ground, not wanting to look at you directly, growing ashamed of what he said. It was stupid to ask. 

You bite down on your teeth during the silence that follows, eventually moving his hovering hand away from your face. His full attention is on you now and your fingers burn where they meet his wrist; you don’t let go, “What other people say about us is not who we are, you know that.” 

Steve nods before inhaling shakily - his gaze averts from yours as the sentiment settles.

“And I think that you’re…” Wonderful. Beyond wonderful. 

The one I could love. 

The one I  _ do  _ love. 

You desperately want to say it, let him know what’s been swimming in your head all this time; the words are perched on the edge of your tongue. Steve’s back to looking at you now, subconsciously leaning a little bit closer but you feel your breath hitch in your throat. 

“Hey Steve?” Dustin’s voice echoes through the door and you curse your little brother as Steve turns towards the door, pulling away from you - your eyes screw shut in embarrassment once you’re out of view.

“Yeah, buddy? Little busy right now.” 

“How long - like totally hypothetically, does it take for a couple to per say, canoodle?” 

You sit up straighter at the question, your answer in sync with Steve’s, “What?”

The door opens immediately after, Dustin’s curls popping through the gap. He glances between you and Steve a few times, and finally pulls away before shouting down the hall, “Alright, we’re good!”

Mike’s response from the living room is muffled, but it still reaches your ears, “Dude! Get back here and leave them alone!”

“Yeah, come on - that’s so not cool!” Max adds.

Dustin quickly turns back to you both, “Carry on.” 

The door shuts and Steve sighs before spinning around. You weren’t kidding about the kids, they can be a real pain in the ass. He’s greeted with the sight of you, head pressed into your palms, struggling to cover the raging blush that rises from your neck. 

“I’m gonna kill him, I swear.”

———-

Everyone’s  _ exhausted _ . As soon as Steve confirmed you both were okay, Max curled up onto the living room chair and fell asleep almost immediately. You don’t blame her - you remember what it was like the first time. 

It’s taking the others longer than you expected to get back, and even though you can’t close your eyes to relax, you just want to know if everyone else made it. You hope that they arrive soon; the boys are outside waiting to greet them. 

Steve sits himself down beside you on the couch, and he throws an arm over your shoulder. You’re so tired that you don’t even notice that you lean into his touch, almost going as far to lay your head onto his chest. 

You stop yourself, pulling away slightly to get in an apology but when you see the look behind his eyes, you can’t force any words out. His fingers are drawing circles onto your shoulder in an effort to comfort you and the corners of his mouth quirk up a touch, voice just above a whisper, "No, it’s okay." 

Your jaw drops a bit at his tone - it warms your chest and you send a small smile back his way. And an impulse comes over you, and you go through with it before you can ignore it. 

Your fingers light his skin on fire as you brush a piece of hair away from a bandage. Your thumb swipes across his cheek as you tuck it behind his ear and when your gaze lands back on his, you feel yourself become flustered; he was already looking at you.

Your eyes drift down to his lips for just a second but it’s enough. His focus meets yours once again and there it is. It’s undeniable.

The electricity.

Abruptly, the door swings open on its hinges; you quickly stand up at the sight of Will’s state in the intention of greeting him. You don’t particularly care about the pain, or Steve’s protests for that matter - you just want to know if the boy’s okay.

———-

Dustin sits himself beside you once everyone’s settled. You managed to convince the boys to come indoors to wait for Eleven and Hopper’s return - you try to ignore Mike’s pacing.

“You know-” Dustin mutters, shifting in his seat on the couch, “Steve’s alright.”

You laugh, relishing in the irony of his words; last week, your brother wouldn’t have made eye contact with Steve. Now he can’t seem to get enough.

“Told you,” You say as you nudge him playfully, teasing him for the previous conversations.

He rolls his eyes, shoving you away gently. He’s careful not to touch anything injured.

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t need to hear the speech again.”

Dustin pauses as you fiddle with the bandage over your hand, “You two are a good team.”

Your cheeks deepen in color as the corner of your mouth moves up into a slight grin, “Thanks. I’ll let him know of your approval.”

“And just so you know, I’d be okay with it.” 

Your gaze moves to him, head tilted a few degrees, waiting for him to finish his thought. He shrugs a bit, as if it’s obvious, “If you guys wanna be together. I think that’d be pretty cool.”

“What’d be pretty cool?”

Steve’s voice cuts through as he strides towards the pair of you. You just smile, replying back without missing a beat, “If I tried out for softball in the spring. What do you think?”

Dustin’s nose crinkles. He doesn’t like that you’ve gotten good with excuses.

“Yeah, totally. I’m sure you’d be great, Henderson,” Steve answers, unable to spot the brief moment where your words wobbled out of fear. Fear that he overheard what Dustin said.

You expect Steve to join you, but he seems hesitant. Dustin notices too before deciding to ask, “Something wrong?”

“It’s just, um-” Steve says, bringing his hand to adjust the collar of his shirt. Your brow furrows when he stops, concerned with what could be causing his worry. He sighs before gesturing back to the door, “Nancy wants to have a word.”

A shallow inhale is pulled into your lungs as your nerves begin to alight with anxiety. What could she want to say to you? 

You clear your throat while rising to your feet; Steve brings an arm to your side for stability, just in case. The small smile that you send him silently answers his question - you appreciate the gesture, but it’s not necessary. 

The cold autumn air flushes your cheeks, and the exhale you were holding expels as a misty cloud into the night sky. Your shoulders slump from the action, but God, you wish you were feeling more relaxed. Nancy’s presence doesn’t help.

“That looks like it hurts.”

Her voice floats through the air, just as cautious and gentle as you remember - like music, a light lullaby. 

She’s standing by the porch fence, leaning her frame against it while peering curiously at you. One of her brows is raised slightly - the same way it always looks when she’s trying to solve a puzzle.

You always loved when she did that. 

The soles of your shoes scuff against the floor as you take a few steps forward, approaching her slowly. You leave a few feet between you once coming up by her side, resting your forearms on the warped wood; you scoff, “I’ve felt worse.”

Nancy blinks at your comment, grimacing ever so slightly at the tone. She realizes that she probably deserves it, all things considered. 

Your head hangs, curving the posture of your back; Nancy figures that you probably wish you were anywhere else. Maybe you’re pressured with guilt or some other emotion, maybe just exhaustion - your shoulders sag as you lean into your arms. 

You can feel her studying your actions, desperate to get a grip on your psyche. Nancy shifts her weight when you look over, holding the eye contact for a moment before she moves her gaze ahead, out to the cars in the driveway.

Her mind is swirling with what to say; she didn’t think this through before you arrived. She’s still wrapped up in what happened prior.

“How come you never told me?” Steve had said, standing in a position that almost matches yours. His voice held a sadness, lingering with a trace of betrayal, “About you two?”

He didn’t need to continue further, Nancy understood perfectly. He couldn’t have meant Jonathan. 

She only shrugged, eyes focused on the way his hands were clasped together. A pause occurred before she finally answered, “It’s been a long time, Steve. I didn’t think it was important.”

Steve nodded grimly as he exhaled, pulling away from the conversation. It hurt to watch him move further away, to notice how unsettled he was by her words.

He cleared his throat before he folded his arms across his chest; his voice carried the same tone from before, but with a deeper level of anger. Not just for him, but on behalf of you too. 

“Yeah. That seems to be a trend with you, Nance.”

“I’ve never seen you do that before.”

Your voice pulls Nancy from her trance, bringing her back down to earth. Her confused expression and the following silence urges you to prod further. You gesture with your chin, unmoving the rest of your aching body, “Your fingers.”

The brunette becomes hyper aware of how they drum against the wood - a subconscious reaction to the situation at hand. A wave of embarrassment washes over her before quickly stopping; Nancy doesn’t like being anxious. It doesn’t suit her.

“It’s been a long week,” She says, placing the behavior on her shot nerves. You scoff again, lighter this time, “That’s an understatement.”

And then Nancy remembers why she requested for you to join her. The flashes from Halloween night have been haunting her - all she can recall is your fury and misery, fueled by her actions.

“I don’t really remember what happened at Tina’s, if I’m being completely honest,” Nancy mutters. You sigh deeply at her words, reminded with glimpses of what had been said. You wish you had the luxury to forget it all.

Nancy continues when you don’t speak.

“I’m sure I deserved it, though,” She looks back to you, unbroken hand clenched tightly in a fist. Your eyes are trained on the whiteness of your knuckles, while your brain is focused on the feeling of your fingernails digging harshly into your palm; you’re desperately trying not to boil over again.

“You were right.”

Your eyes snap back to Nancy - the vulnerability in her voice catches you off guard, “There was nothing you ever did to deserve any of that. And I’m sorry.”

You can only shake your head, gaze dancing around the environment, “How can you apologize for something you don’t even remember doing?”

You wish that you weren’t so angry with her. You wish that you could hear what she’s saying, that you could  _ believe it _ . 

Nancy pauses, heart heavy with guilt, “I’m not talking about what happened at Tina’s.”

The apology doesn’t sound real coming from her mouth. Because you’ve waited  _ years  _ to hear her say it - to hear the sadness and pain seep from her voice. But that doesn’t make it any easier to digest.

Not like you thought it would.

But you can’t look at her, because you’ve silently suffered with this burden - constantly wondering what you could’ve done to make her stay. You never thought you’d see the moment where Nancy took fault for your split.

“There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t regret it,” Nancy admits. Her chilled fingers run deftly through her hair, “Every time I see you with the kids, they always look so happy. Because you treat them all like they’re your family - not a single one of them is less important.”

She smiles, reminiscing on the simpler times. Before all of this, before things were tense, before she felt trapped by her life. Back when you both felt as free as birds, spending all your time giggling and grinning as if all your problems were obsolete.

At least, they were when you two were together.

“I miss being a part of your family.”

The breath is shaky as it leaves your body. You don’t know what more to say, what you would say if your tongue wasn’t tied. 

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I think it’s been too long. But I’d hate myself if I never apologized for it.”

And with that, Nancy pulls herself away from the fence, realizing that she shouldn’t try and push it. She said what she felt was necessary. She doesn’t believe that things will go back to how they were before, she just hopes now that your relationship can be civil, at best.

But as soon as she’s about to leave you be, another thought pops into her head. She turns back to you, catching your watery gaze as it drifts to hers, “You make Steve really happy too.”

She retreats indoors before you’re able to reply.


End file.
